


Gnawing Guilt

by lyrana



Series: The Order 1886 collection [6]
Category: The Order: 1886
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 13:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3852310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrana/pseuds/lyrana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt in which Alastair feels torn between his kind and his family</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gnawing Guilt

He recognized him, Alastair thought as he pulled his bleeding sister to safety. _I know who he was, and he surely knew me too_. The realization pressed down on his already heavy heart.

They reached a dark alleyway and he knew no lycan would dare to try and cross him now. Alastair knew he would owe them a long explanation but it did not matter to him at that moment. The wet cobblestones of the street slowly became red as Isabeau continued to bleed out. Reaching into his pocket, Alastair pulled out a handkerchief and pressed down on her face and neck.

“Alastair, it hurts,” she whispered.

“Shh don’t talk. You’re going to be alright,” he replied, comforting her.

“The lycan…is it…”

“It’s dead. Don’t worry we’re safe.”

“Good.” She cracked a small smile. “I’m too tired.” Alastair couldn’t help but smile himself, despite the dire circumstances. That lycan, one who was Alastair’s kin, had almost sliced his sister’s face in half, and he felt his deepest feelings conflict inside him.

 

Edward was his name. Alastair had met him several weeks ago in a bar. He rarely met up with his own kin, but he had received an anonymous telegram several weeks before, insisting to meet. Naturally, his curiosity got the better of him, and when he’d met the young lad, who couldn’t have been much older than 20, Alastair knew right away that he was a lycan. He could smell the wolf in him.

“Are you Alastair D’Argyll?” the lanky boy had asked, taking a seat next to Alastair. Edward had dirty blonde hair, and was covered from head to toe in soot. To say that the boy was impoverished was a vast understatement.

“Who are you, and how’d you find me?” Alastair had asked, grabbing his jacket.

“My name is Edward, sir,” he replied, standing his ground. “And everyone in our circles knows about…our shared condition.”

Alastair huffed and let go of the boy, “What is this about?”

“We need your help,”

“Who is ‘we’ exactly?”

“Your brothers. Your TRUE brothers. We-“ His sentence ended abruptly as Alastair, boiling with an increasing rage, grabbed the young man by his coat and dragged him outside of the bar and into an alleyway.

“You are not my brother!” Alastair remembered shouting as he threw the boy against the wall. Was he trying to convince the boy or himself?

“You can’t hide from the truth, Alastair. We ARE brothers, and we must help one another.”

He sighed, “And what would my so-called ‘brothers’ have of me?”

Edward composed himself. “Ever since the order started getting those fancy gadgets of theirs, it’s been open season for them, hunting us down left and right.”

“As opposed to you doing the same to humans…”

“You mean ‘us’ and no it’s not the same. It’s getting bad, and some of us are worried they’ll hunt us into extinction.”

Alastair scoffed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You know humans better than any of us. How can you deny their destructive tendencies? They wage wars over petty disagreements, so why would they not hunt us down until each and every one of us is dead?”

“And why would this concern me, exactly?” Alastair asked, furrowing his brow.

“Because you are like us. We share the wolf’s blood. Sooner or later, someone in the order will find out about your true nature. And when they do, who will you turn to for help?”

Alastair did not answer him, instead he mulled over what Edward was telling him. It is true that ever since the industrial revolution began, the knights became more powerful against the half-breeds and it did concern him a bit, but he hadn’t thought about what would happen to him.

“What makes you think that they will ever find out?” Alastair asked.

“Oh please. You’ve lived for centuries; surely you must know that at some point, someone will figure it out. It’s not so much of a question of ‘if’ but rather ‘when,’” Edward replied.

Alastair took in a deep breath. He was certain that no one in the order knew about his true self, but he also knew that what Edward was telling him wasn’t complete bullshit.

“What do you propose?” Alastair finally asked.

“A bunch of higher ups have got some plans, but I don’t know any of the details. They just want to know that they can trust in you to help your brethren survive the onslaught of the knights. You help us, and we help you.”

 

As Alastair stabbed Edward for attacking his sister, he remembered when he shook the lanky boy’s hand, forming a new alliance with his true brothers. Before he struck the final blow against him, Alastair could see the look of betrayal in Edward’s eyes, leaving a hollow feeling in his heart. A hushed “I’m sorry” escaped his lips, before turning his attention to Isabeau.

“Does it look terrible?” she asked, bringing Alastair back to the present. He removed his hankerchief and inspected her wounds.

“You’ll be left with some scars, no doubt,” he replied, before reapplying pressure.

Isabeau gave him a weak smile, “As long as they’re impressive, I’m fine with that.” Alastair couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

A gnawing feeling of guilt washed over him. Here he was, helping those he didn’t know try to push humanity back, while those he loved suffered the consequences. He remembered promising to Isabeau that he’d keep her safe when she was first adopted, and now he was breaking that promise. Alastair tried to convince that it was necessary, that he had to do what he could to protect his kind and help them, but looking at his little sister made him think. _Was it really the right choice?_

He huffed. Why couldn’t he have both? Why couldn’t he openly help his kin, while also protecting and loving the human family as if they were his own blood? Alastair feared that he’d eventually have to choose, and if it ever came to that, he doesn’t know what choice he’d make.

“What is with that serious expression?” Isabeau asked, bemused. “Have you been hanging around Grayson too much?”

“I’m worried about you,” he replied.

Isabeau snorted and patted his arm, “You don’t need to be such a mother hen, Alastair. I’m a big girl I can take care of myself.”

“You’re still my little sister regardless.”

Isabeau smiled, and he only felt guiltier.

“Come now,” she said as she sat up, taking the handkerchief from Alastair. “The others will be waiting for us.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alastair asked, just to be sure; to make himself feel better.

“Yes, brother. I’ll be just fine,” she said, rolling her eyes.  Alastair smiled, and hoped that he would not live to see a day where he’d be forced to choose.

**Author's Note:**

> Why do people like sad things???


End file.
